Frustration
by Arctimon
Summary: We all have our days where nothing goes right. When those times come, it's important to remember not the talents you have, but the people you share your talents with. P/I, pseudo-vent fic.


_**Disclaimer:** All characters of Phineas and Ferb are the property of Dan Povenmire, Jeff "Swampy" Marsh, and Disney Channel._

* * *

Thunk.

The sound was steady. Loud. Clear.

Thunk.

It wasn't in the bathroom. Or the living room.

Thunk.

Or the...bedroom.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Thunk.

If someone were to look hard enough, they would be able to see a young red-haired boy with an hobby table in the backyard, blueprints spread upon it...

Thunk.

And his head being repeatedly smacked against the table.

Thunk.

It was times like these that made people passing by wonder...what in the world was going on?

THUNK.

With a final effort, the young boy threw his head into the table, landing with a dull thud.

He hated this.

He had nothing.

He didn't think this day was ever going to come.

He had no idea what to do.

He couldn't think of anything to make.

Sure, he had a lot of plans, but none of them seemed good enough.

He would normally have Ferb to help him out, but he and his parents were at the antique shop, renovating an old grandfather clock. As interesting as that had sounded to him, he felt that his time was better spent at the house, thinking of future Big Ideas. Candace had declined to go as well, not because of her disinterest in knick-knacks and tchotchkes, but because someone has to watch Phineas.

Not that she really needed to. Or...was, really. She was busy sitting in her room, going on hour three of her conversation with Stacy.

Baljeet and Buford were off in the city, looking for new baseball equipment for the summer league they were setting up. And Isabella? He hadn't tried to call her at all; at that point in time he was so set into his bad funk that he didn't want to have to bother her and drag her down to his level.

So here he was. In the backyard. Alone. Making a steady imprint of his face onto the surface.

"Hey, Phineas."

OK. No longer alone.

Phineas let out a sigh, grinding his head further into the table. "Hi, Isabella."

"What'cha doin'?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied. "Just reading the fine print on these blueprints."

"Isn't that kind of hard to do with your eyes closed?"

He caught himself, quickly realizing that excuse wasn't going to fly. "Yes. Yes it is."

Phineas heard her giggle at his response, which made him feel slightly better. It was going to take a dump truck full of laughs, however, to get him out of his funk.

"Seriously, Phineas, what are you doing?" Isabella asked. "There can't be anything productive in banging your head into a table?"

"It's not productive. But it makes me feel better."

Phineas felt the table shift away from him, no doubt because of Isabella leaning on it. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

He sighed loudly as he laid his chin down on the table, keeping his eyes closed.. "I can't do anything. I feel like I'm having a total brain meltdown. Nothing is going right. Nothing is cooperating with me. I just feel as if my mind is going to collapse on itself."

He shifted his position, bringing his hands to his temple. "And now I have a headache. Great."

"It's such a nice day, though. Can't you enjoy it?"

"That's _why_ I can't enjoy it, Isabella. It's a prime opportunity for me to come up with a great idea, and I _can't_. I have to, or else..." He stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to alarm Isabella any further.

"...Or else what?"

Phineas heard the questioning tone in her voice, and he knew that he couldn't hide his worry anymore.

"Or else I'll feel like I let everyone down."

There, he said it. Now he could go back to properly pitying himself.

The table moved again, and Phineas felt warm air fall upon his face. He was confused; it wasn't the breeze, as there was none. It wasn't a bird flying by; why would it be flying that low? His curiosity getting the better of him, he finally opened his eyes.

Isabella's head was sitting on the other side of the table, her nose hovering very close to the tip of Phineas'. Her eyes peered into his, not blinking even for a moment.

"Phineas," she said, her head raising slightly up and down with her speech, "You know that you aren't obligated to do something big today, right?"

"I have to, though." He returned the gaze at her, his eyebrows narrowing. "I feel so useless. What else am I going to do? Sit around and contemplate the meaning of life? I think Ferb's already done that anyway. He said something about a number. Forty-"

"Phineas."

Her sharp word cut him off entirely. He raised an eyebrow at her as she continued.

"There are a lot of words that I can use to describe you. Smart. Hard-working. Kind. A little oblivious sometimes." She glanced aside for a moment, and Phineas saw a slight tinge on her cheeks. It was almost as if he had imagined it. "But one word that I would never use is 'useless'."

"Isabella..."

"Even the best thinkers and inventors in the world have an off-day. You think that they were busy innovating 24-7? They did normal stuff as well. I'm sure you can do that too."

Phineas looked down, his mood worsening. "I don't think I'm capable of doing anything normal."

The raven-haired girl laughed. "Now that's just silly."

"Hmm?"

"At the end of the day, you're just like me: a kid. You're capable of doing normal things. You just have to be able to be open for that. Isn't there anything going on that you wanted to do?"

Phineas looked down at the blueprint, thinking hard. "Well, there is a 'Lost Artifact' marathon playing on the Uncovery Channel."

"Why don't we do that then?" Isabella straightened up, smoothing out her skirt. "And then once Ferb gets back, we can do a game of Skiddly Whiffers? The _regular_ version," she added, seeing the redhead open his mouth.

"That does sound fun."

"Then it's decided." Isabella grabbed his hand, yanking him off of his chair. "C'mon, I'll grab some popcorn."

Phineas was led off by his neighbor, leaving his plans behind. However, he couldn't help but feel that his worries were slowly being left behind as well. After all, there was no point in worrying right now. He had a whole lot of artifacts to learn about today.

And as frustrating as not making a Big Idea was, having his best friend beside him through his troubles was the next best thing.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm frustrated right now.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm a little more than frustrated. I'm aggravated. About feelings. About people. About a whole lot of things that would take way too long to explain here.

But as much as things are irritating me right now, I know that things will be a whole lot better with time. Just like I'm sure Phineas had his bad days as well. We saw that a little bit in "Bully Bromance Breakup", but I would like to think that Phineas suffers in a less...overt way.

Yes, I know this story is not the best, but I just really need to get this story off of my chest.

I also do want to thank two particular people who have been helping me through these rough times: soraoathkeeper (a close friend I first met years ago through a TT forum), and gibberishic (on DevArt). Ladies, I don't really know how you put up with me all of the time, but I am grateful that you do. You've kept me sane when I didn't think I could be. Thank you.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


End file.
